Snakes and Lions
by E.J. Lawrence
Summary: Strange things start happening at Hogwarts when Arabella Figg's assistant arrives, along with two members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, and a mysterious young woman named Athena.Please Read and Review, it's my first fanfiction, thanks.
1. Default Chapter

  
A/N: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J. K. Rowling, Arthur Levine, Scholastic Publishing, AOL Time Warner, and any of their subsidiary companies.  However the name Valord, Danny Jacobson, Mordred, are mine, but if you do chose to use them in any of your works, just give me some credit. Okay. Thank you.  This is my first attempt at a Potter fanfic, so please tell me what you think. 

E.J. 

Snakes and Lions.

Prologue: The Meeting

            The Green Witch was an old sea faring inn on the coast of Scotland. The thatched, and patched, roof leaked, even in the smallest of rainstorms, and the floors never seemed to cease creaking. The walls looked as if they were last painted in the early 1790s and the grounds had only been taken care of once every fifty years. If not for the dim glow of light from the dirty windows people would pass right on by thinking it deserted, and most did anyway. The few that did stop at the inn could rightly see that most of those in the dinning hall were locals, wearing the oddest of clothing, robes of many colors, all in different stages of raggedness. The bartender had only one good eye, and a leg made to look like the talon of a vulture. Was it any wonder that those that stopped in quickly ate and left in a hurry when seeing the crowd that frequented the Green Witch? The locals kept mainly to themselves and tried not to bother with those that came in. They wanted no part of the travelers and those that traveled wanted nothing to do with them. 

            So it was a slight surprise to the locals, one stormy evening, that a woman dressed in fine robes, made of purple and black velvet, would dare to enter this den of vice and hostility. Her ice blue eyes swept the room in a quick deliberate manner, and most of the men that had been staring at her quickly ducked behind their ancient hats, or became very interested in the stew that was sitting on the table before them. The woman paid these men no mind, but marched right up to the bar, and placed her carrying case besides her. The barkeep looked up, eyeing the woman carefully, for, although she was dressed elegantly, she was sopping wet, and her black hair was a disheveled mess. 

            "Whot can I do for yeh miss?" the bartender asked wiping off the dark wooden top. 

            The woman's eyes combed over his face twice before she spoke, in a clipped, precise way, "Do you have any private parlors?" 

            The bartender rolled his one good eye, and leaned forward on the bar. "Miss, now, does this look like the sor' ta place that has a parlor room? Only one dinning room, ma'me, and a few rooms upstairs ta rent. Are yeh plannin' on stayin' long then?" 

            "No, only for dinner," the woman said curtly, and scanned the room once more. "There, that table, near the fireplace, away from the windows. I'll take that seat."

            The barkeeper shrugged, "If'n that's what you want. 'Course, Henry McGillin won't be happy 'bout it. That's his seat, and he's a sore sort 'o man."

            "Then Mr. McGillin will just have to find a new seat to claim as his own." The woman said as she picked up the case, and moved swiftly to the table in the back near the fire. Then placing her case on the table, and laying her cloak over the grate before the fire, she sat and pulled out a black wand from inside her left sleeve. Shaking the water off, she waved it over her head, muttered a word and sat back as her hair swiftly twisted itself into a tight plait. Silently the woman turned her chair towards the fire and warmed her hands. The winds were picking up, and the storm was growing worse. She noticed that the windows rattled and shook, and some of the locals were quick to move away from them. 

            No doubt, she thought, looking at the worn woodwork, they were as worried as she was that the windows would blow in at them. The Bartender, cursing softly as he got out from behind his bar, pulled an extremely worn wand from his dirty smock and muttered a quick spell at the window. The windows instantly stopped shaking, and locked in place by invisible hands. At that the Bartender walked back to his bar and picked up his copy of '_The Daily Prophet'. _

            At first a small, plump looking witch, surely the owner's wife, had come over and told the woman what they had for dinner that evening. But the woman just waved the small witch away saying she'd wait till her guest came to eat. The witch shrugged her shoulders and walked back to the bar to get more drinks for the rest of the crowd. The woman watched the locals for several minutes, seeing if any were interested in her presence there. If they were, these locals, certainly didn't act like they were, which suited the woman just fine. Hunger was starting to catch up with her, and since her trip was so long, she wished that she had eaten something earlier. Fighting back the pains she turned her attention to the flames and admired how they danced about as music piped in the background over an outdated radio tuned to WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network). For a moment or so the woman allowed herself to relax and just soak in the atmosphere. However a sharp wind from the cracks in the wall caught her off guard, and she shivered. This action brought about some looks from the locals, who seemed to think that a little cold never hurt anyone. She frowned back at them, and that brought back her foul temper. 

            To calm her mind she pulled out a letter that she had received only two or three days before from inside her robes. The writer had scrawled the letter in a hasty way, as if he too had been unsure about what to say. 

            _'F –Hope this gets to you. We must meet… too many things to explain here. Green Witch Inn…should be safe. Keep your eyes and ears open. –R'_

            The woman read the letter over and over; she scoured the piece of parchment looking for anything that she might have missed. A droplet of ink, a change in the way the paper felt, something that might give away why the writer had insisted upon meeting her here. Or even where he'd written it from. 

            As the evening wore on, the locals were leaving and the storm worsening. The woman began to wonder if her guest was going to come, and was pondering the idea of leaving, when a group of men gave a wide birth to a man and a black dog who'd just stepped in though the door that they had just pulled open. The men gave this new traveler a sour looks, and then took their leave muttering about how rude people were becoming in this day and age. The man and dog were sopping wet, and the man looked worse then his pet, as his hat was drooping, and water dripped off his cloak onto the floor making large puddles. His robes were shabby, and looked well worn in. His face was wrapped in a scarf, but it was clear that he had been ill. His skin was pale, and he had shadows under his eyes. The dog, while strong and well built, looked just as bad as the owner. He was a big black thing, with a pair of deep-set black eyes, and a strong jaw; however his coat was a dull color, and he looked just as exhausted as the man that walked besides him. The Bartender took one look at the man, cast a wary glance at the dog, and growled, "We don' serve free meals, mate. So you an' tha' mongrel can just…" 

            "Ah, I see my guests have arrived," said the woman in the fine robes as she hurried over to the bar. She petted the dog on the head, linked her arm with the man and led him away to the table calling over her shoulder. "Sir, if you could, three dishes of your best stew, two drinks of butter beer, and a bowl of broth for the dog, if you would." 

            The Bartender looked annoyed, but nodded and shuffled around to the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, the trio of travelers sat back down and the woman said pointedly, "So what's the word? Is it true, is Voldemort back?" 

            The man let out a heavy sigh, "From what Sirius has told me…yes, and he's been restored." 

            The man un-wrapped his face, and took off his hat, placing both by the fireside. He had a young face, but his brown hair was flecked with gray, and the woman thought it gave him a bit of a distinguished nature. The man gave the woman a quick glance as the small witch bustled over wheeling a tray with three bowls of stew, a small bowl of broth, and some rolls. She put the bowls for the dog down first, who eagerly ate the stew with much vigor, splashing some broth onto the hem of the woman's cloak. She raised a fine eyebrow, and sniffed at the dog.  

            "Thank you very much," the man said as he was served, at once the witch gave him a smile; the woman, however, curtly nodded her head, and the witch scowled at her shaking her head and casting the man a sad look. Once she had gone back into the kitchen the man chuckled, "I do believe she doesn't like you, my dear." 

            "Please, Remus," the woman said taking a spoonful of her stew. "If I cared what everyone thought of me, I would never be able to do my job." She looked down at the dog, "And you, I see you still haven't mastered the idea of table manners, Sirius Black. But I suppose being on the run hasn't allowed you that grace period to learn, has it. " 

            "Then you know…" Remus said inquisitively to the woman, who simply nodded as she ate. 

            "My dear Professor Lupin, I know only bits and pieces. I know that you were working at Hogwarts for a spell, and that Sirius broke out by using one of his many…talents." She gave the dog a slight smile and he whined at her, wagging his tail, then looked back at Remus. "And I heard some bits on what happened last year at Hogwarts. Sadly my…informer…has been very unwilling to give me all I need to know. She's been very hesitant, and I suppose she naturally is so due to my connections and all. So, first things first, this is all that I know." 

            She became silent when the small witch returned carrying the butter beers, fully foaming, to the table, and once more shot the woman a harsh look before departing back into the kitchen. The woman smirked, pleased that she could still make people dislike her, and lowered her voice as she continued, watching those around to see if the locals were listening to her. 

            "I know that four years ago a Professor Quirrel tried to steal the Philosophers Stone. Apparently Voldemort possessed him, and used him to retrieve it. I also know that the year after the Chamber was opened by a student, and once more for whatever reason, this attack was linked to Voldemort. The year you came to school Sirius escaped," and at this she looked to the dog saying softly, "And you will forgive me for my stupidity in even daring to think you were at all a spy for Voldemort," then continued with a quick breath. "He was tracked to the school, and by what Dumbledore has informed me of, it was discovered by the two of you that Peter Petigrew was behind the murders. He escaped your custody, and hasn't been seen in nearly two years. Then, just last year, Bertha Jorkins goes missing, followed by Barty Crouch. There is a Triwizard tournament, and Cedric Diggory was killed. And each of these situations have arisen around Harry, and appear to be attacks that were meant to kill him, or use him in some way to further Voldemort.  Have I got it so far?" 

            Lupin nodded, washed down the last of his stew, and then said, "So far, yes."

            "Good," the woman said. "Now, tell me," and her face for the first time showed anxiety, "is he okay? He's safe right now, right?" 

            "Oh, yes," Remus assured the woman and tried to give her a smile to calm her. "He's back with his Aunt and Uncle. Dumbledore made certain of that." 

            However the look on the woman's face barely changed, and he realized she wanted to know what he knew of the matter. Clearing his throat he quickly explained to her what he understood of the situation. He told her all that Sirius had related to him about Harry Potter, and the events that occurred during the Triwizard Tournament. That Harry had made it to the end of the third task, a maze that held many dangers including a giant Blast ended Skewrt, a Boggart ("Which Harry dealt with magnificently using a Patronus."), and several other creatures. Then when he and Diggory had touched the Cup, it turned out to be a port key that sucked them to a graveyard. That, here, Diggory was killed by Voldemort, and that Wormtail had pierced Harry in the arm and used his blood, and Wormtail's own hand, to regenerate Voldemort. How Voldemort had forced the boy to duel, and how, when their wands met, a '_Priori Incantatem'_ (Reverse spells) occurred, forcing all of the curses the wand had made to come out in reverse order. That Lily and James Potter, along with Bertha Jorkins, and a Muggle known as Frank Bryce, and Cedric, had come out of the wand. And somehow, in spite of attacks by Death Eaters and being very badly hurt, Harry managed to get to the portkey and bring back Cedric's body, and himself, back to Hogwarts. 

            When Remus had finished, he sat back and the woman was staring down at the table. When she looked up, he saw she was forcing back tears, but there was a dangerous power that glowed in her eyes. 

            "And so it begins," she said softly. Remus pulled a letter from his robes and passed it to her. 

            "I received _this with a letter from Dumbledore. It was addressed to you, I haven't read it." _

            The woman glanced at the letter in his outstretched hand, for a moment she hesitated in taking it, then gently lifted it, and opened it. Her eyes moved quickly over the parchment, and after a few moments, she looked up and stuffed the letter into her own robes. 

            "So, I guess this is where we part ways, old friend. It would have been nicer to see you in better circumstances. I take it Sirius has been making the Wolfsbane potion for you then?" 

            "Yes," Remus said starting to get up and put on his hat. "But I have to say he can't seem to make it taste any good. Never was much of a cook." 

            The woman laughed for the first time since she entered the Green Witch Inn. Remus smiled at her and asked if she would be staying the night. 

            "No, no, I don't think I will be." Said the woman as she pulled the letter out once more, "Mordred will be upset if I'm not back, and I don't think I would be welcome here anyway." She stood up and embraced him quickly then said in a loud voice, "I'll be seeing you, dear brother. Take care of you're self, and watch out for those Marauders. They're nothing but trouble." 

            Remus laughed at this comment, and said, "But of course, dear sister. I'll be very careful not to run afoul of them." 

            The woman said a sweet good-bye to Sirius as well, giving him a hug and rubbing behind his ears. Then, with one last embrace, Remus and Sirius departed though the door of the Green Witch Inn and out into the storm where, after passing by a few trees, Sirius Black retook his human form, both men disapperated. The woman waited a few more minutes before making her own departure with her case in tow, and wandered out into the storm for several miles. Five miles from the Inn she unpacked a Silver Arrow broom she carried in the case, assembled it with record speed, mounted and took to the sky. She rode for several hours above the clouds, not wanting to have any suspicion cast on her incase anyone doubted that she was a traveler, until she was certain that she had not been followed. Then, positive that she was safe, she landed in a marsh, disassembled her broom, and packed it back into the case. Once she was satisfied with that she pulled a small black box from the same case, lifted its lid, and touched a diamond cufflink. 

            Instantly she felt herself pulled from the marsh, felt a rush of wind, and landed softly before a regal looking mansion. Trees surrounded the mansion, but one could hear the sound of waves pounding against a nearby cliff. The woman walked quickly to the giant house, pulled her wand out, said "_Alohomora_" and watched as the two oak doors parted silently to let her in. The doors closed once she passed the threshold, and a beautiful black raven flew down landing on her arm. She smiled stroking his head. 

            "There's a good boy, Mordred. Miss me? I'll be you did." She cooed to the bird as she ascended the lush marble staircase. "You know what boy? We have a job again, and guess where were going? Were getting to go back home Mordred, back to where it all began. Back to Hogwarts, and you're going to meet a very special boy, my dear pet. A very special boy by the name of Harry Potter."  


	2. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Return to Hogwarts

            "Red. Bright as a ruby, and twice as pretty," so were the thoughts of the woman sitting in the tree in the yard of the small cottage. She could see over the roof, and smiled at the sight that greeted her. How long had she been sitting there, she wasn't sure, but it was the best view in the world to her.  "I never thought I would see that train again." 

            She crossed her long legs, and flipped her dark black hair over her shoulder, and gently swung her left leg back and forth. She could see the steam from the Hogwarts Express as it pulled into the station, and pulled out a pocket watch, checking the hour. "They've arrived, and in due time as well; excellent. Must remember to compliment the driver on his superb timing." 

            The sudden rustle of grass below her made the woman pause and look down. Below a younger woman –not even woman, more of a girl –stood before the tree and was staring up at her and looking quite shocked. She was not even nineteen, blonde hair held back by silver barrettes, and bright blue eyes that held a look of terror. The woman smiled at her, revealing two rows of bright, white teeth. "Well, hello there…and might I ask what you are doing out here?" 

            "I…" the girl stammered, and the woman raised her eyebrows. "I …thought…I heard some one out here…who…who are you?" 

            "That is none of your concern, Miss," the woman said softly. "I must thank you for letting me rest in your tree, but now…" and she pulled out her wand, "you must forget that you ever saw me here. Don't need people getting tipped off that I'm back. At least not yet."

            Before the girl could even pull out her own wand there was a bright blue flash, and she slumped to the ground in a daze. The woman jumped down from the tree, landing neatly on her feet, and strode over to the girl. She lifted her eyelids and clucked her tongue "Should have learned not to go out at night young one." 

            Then as softly as a summer breeze she disappeared back into the forest, the royal blue robes vanishing just as the sun finally set.

*                      *                      *

            Harry found himself back in the graveyard. Once more he could smell the wet rainy air that gathered just before a storm. Only now it was colder, fog rolled over the land, like steam over a bubbling caldron; his breath, harsh and raspy, whispered out about him, smoke in the cold air. The yew tree, the same tree wood that Voldemort's wand was made from, loomed over him, a twisted hand ready to reach down and grab at him. The graves seemed larger, more menacing, and, he was sure that each one was going to open up any second and swallow him. Suddenly he heard the slightest sound of footfalls, and the swish of cloaks, and then he saw shadowy figures making their way over the yard. Large, tall figures, draped in red cloaks, masks upon their faces, so that no one could possible tell who they were: Death Eaters! They were coming for him, Harry knew this, and he started to run; but he didn't move! He couldn't move; his feet were planted to the spot as if taking root into the very ground. His pulse quickened; he had to get away, he just had to! But pull as hard as he might, it was no good. 

            "Come on," he silently urged his feet, trying to will them to work, "Come on! Move! Run! Do something!" 

            But it was no use, and the feet didn't comply. Harry looked down, there was an itchy sensation on his legs, and his mouth fell open in a silent scream. Ropes, large, thick heavy ropes (as thick as tree branches) were curling up his legs! They were coming up right from the ground, trying to hold him in place. The Death Eaters were closing in on him; pretty soon they would be on top of him, and then what? Would they kill him, was this the end? No…he couldn't think like that, he wasn't going to die, not here, not now. He had faced them before, challenged their Dark Master himself four times, and come out alive. But had his luck run out? Voldemort had gotten what he wanted from him, and now he wanted him, Harry, dead! 

            Ten yards…(Harry reached into his pocket for the knife that Sirius had sent him for Christmas, but it wasn't there)…seven yard…(he could hear soft whispering, and laughter –they were laughing at him)…four yards…(Harry pulled at the cords that bound him, wrenching and twisting them, trying desperately to get them off. But it seemed his fingers and hands didn't want to work)…three yard…(He reached for his wand, but then two more cords sprung up and grabbed him around the wrists, keeping him from moving his arms)…two yards…("_Please, someone help," but Harry knew his cries were in vain, no one was going to help him this time, he was alone)…one yard…(His scar was throbbing with pain now, he could hardly see, the pain was so intense; and then, the crowd of Death-eaters parted, an a enormous snake slipped out from in-between their legs). _

            They were less then twelve feet away, and the snake slithered up to Harry. It circled around him, hissing and spitting. To the normal ear it was just a bunch of noise, but Harry, who was a parselmouth, could understand every word as clear as if the snake were talking English. 

            "Well, I see our guest of honor has arrived," the snake had stopped circling and a cold high laugh echoed all around. "Welcome, Harry Potter, welcome to your doom!" 

            Voldemort! There was no mistaking that laugh; Harry had heard that laugh once before when he was very small. It was the night Voldemort had discovered where his parents were hiding, the night that Voldemort killed them; the very laugh that Voldemort had laughed when Harry's mother, Lily Potter, had begged for mercy, only to be killed trying to save Harry from the same fate as his father. The snake shot up to be level with Harry's eyes. What he saw made him scream, the pain in his scar double and he suddenly heaved. The snake had a human head, but the rest of it was some hybrid, with long, sharp, claw like hands. The face was a ghastly white, with slits for nostrils, and scarlet red eyes; it was the face of Lord Voldemort. But, Voldemort had been restored to his normal body, why then did he then appear to look like a snake? 

            Voldemort smiled, "Look, my family, see the child you once thought had conquered me! This is the one that you believed had destroyed me; had left me weak, and powerless." The Death-eaters shivered collectively, no one spoke. "But now I have captured him. Look upon your great hero now; see what he is…A Boy. A Common, Mudblood boy! No more, no less…

            Voldemort reached into Harry's robes and removed his wand, then pulled his own out of thin air. "And now, like all good boys…he will die…as his mother did, and, as his father before him!" 

            Harry saw a flash of light, brilliant, and felt an intenseness heat; he knew at once he was as good as dead, and was about to give up…when suddenly the pain stopped, not gradually, it just…halted. He dared to open his eyes, and looked up; all around him: the Death Eaters, the wind, the grass…even the sky looked motionless; and Voldemort was still as a statue with a look of horror and fury mingled into one expression. 

            How? Harry wondered, eyeing everything, and everyone around him. How had this…this miracle been done? His dream was in a frozen state, and the ropes binding him dropped to the ground, limp and loose. The fog had even stopped rolling, it all seemed so surreal, and yet it all felt very real all at the same moment. Again the question came up. How?

            And, as if to answer that very question, he turned to face a red-cloaked Death-eater. The figure was shorter then the others, and seemed less threatening, but there was an air of danger around it so intense that Harry did not want to venture any closer. The figure held out a hand, small, and white, but with long fingers that ended in sharp nails. He could see the eyes, bright blue in color, and wondered if this Death-eater could be female.

            "Who…who are you?" Harry asked tentatively, the figure laughed. It was a high laugh, but not cold, nor warm, but somehow he knew that this person was not as evil as they appeared to be. 

            "Would you really like to know, Harry?" the figure asked. "Could you take the shock? Or would you just faint, like your mother did the first time I showed her?" 

            "My…mother…" Harry paused. "What do you know about my mother?" 

            "More then you know, Harry. Oh so much more," said the figure. He was sure by now it was a woman speaking. She turned and started to walk away. "Go now, Harry, and remember my eyes, someday you might find them useful." 

            "Wait!  Come back…" Harry started to shout, but then everything around him started to dissolve, and a voice was calling him back. 

            "Harry…Harry wake up…" 

            " –D'you think we should use some water?"

            " –Naw, that only works in the movies." 

            " –Well is he breathing –If he's not breathing…" 

            " –He's breathing…he's just really fast asleep is all.." 

            Harry blinked open his eyes, he was lying on the floor, the sheets and curtains of his four-poster bed in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory were tangled up around his arms and legs. Four blurred figures were surrounding him. Two were standing up, and two leaning over. One was black (Dean Thomas, Harry figured) and the one nearest him had bright red hair (Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend). 

            "Harry…Harry? You all right?" asked Neville Longbottom, a short boy with dark brown hair, and slightly pudgy. 

            "Yeah," said Harry, hastily. "Could…could one of you give me my glasses?" 

            Seamus quickly reached over, grabbed the glasses that were on the table, while Ron, Dean, and Neville, helped Harry to untangle himself. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, and noticed the others, excluding Ron, were giving him perplexed, or in Neville's case perplexed and anxious, looks. 

            "What happened?" Dean asked, "You were screaming, and Neville woke us up saying that you were having a fit, or some one was putting a curse on you!" 

            "It was a dream, honestly," Harry saw that Neville was still looking quite pale. He assumed at once that the whole incident had reminded him of what the Death-eaters had done to his parents. Frank Longbottom had been an Auror, and when Voldemort had appeared to vanish into thin air, a group of Death-eaters –Barty Crouch jr. among them –had gone to the Longbottom's house and tortured them to find the whereabouts of their dark master. This act had driven Mr. Longbottom, and his wife, insane; leaving Neville to be raised by his grandmother. 

            "It was only a nightmare, nothing to worry about really." 

            Seamus looked at Dean with a look of unbelief; Harry sighed, "Look, it was…nothing! Really…now can I go back to sleep?" 

            "But it's not…Nothing…when it's you Harry," Neville pointed out. "It's never…nothing. Last year you fainted in Divination and the year before that..." 

            Neville shuddered; he was recalling the attack of the Dementors, horrible soulless creatures that fed upon the happy memories of people, leaving them with only the sad and awful memories to keep them company. Destroying a wizards powers, and in some cases, as with a Dementor's kiss, sucking out the soul of the person leaving them as good as dead. Dementors were found at Azakaban, the wizarding prison, where they acted as jailors to the prisoners. "It's always something…something to do with You –Know –Who …" 

            "Would you knock it off," Ron suddenly shouted, he glared at the others. "Harry says it was just a nightmare; then it was just a nightmare. No need to get into You –Know –Who …" 

            The others just looked at Ron with surprise, and he went as red as his hair. "I'm just saying that…it's late, and we all need sleep." 

            Neville nodded, and, reluctantly, the boys got back into bed. Ron waited till he was sure that they were all back to at least a semi-state of sleep, when he whispered to Harry, "Harry, you sure you're all right?" 

            "Yeah," Harry replied. Why was everyone so worried about him suddenly? All that summer he had been getting letters from Hermione (Hermione Granger was Harry's other best friend), and Ron, asking if everything was good, or if he needed to talk, or if he had had any dreams. It was starting to become annoying, and what if he did have a dream about Voldemort? What could he do about it now? He couldn't go racing off after him could he? At most, all he could do was go tell Dumbledore, and leave it at that. 

            "Well," started Ron, trying to get the words right. "It's just that…well…you look a little pale, Harry. Like something really got you spooked." 

            "No, I'm fine," insisted Harry, and he could see Ron wasn't convinced. He smiled at his best friend, "Really Ron, I'm okay." 

            Ron Weasley nodded his head, but still looked slightly shaken. Harry supposed that he would look the same way if Ron woke up screaming and twisted all in his sheets. As he lay back to go to sleep, the dream seemed to filter away. He would have to see Professor Dumbledore in the morning, as Sirius had instructed him in his last letter:

            _ Any dreams, or pains in your scar, go straight to Dumbledore. And no arguing about it Harry; you're safe at Hogwarts, but be careful. _

_                                                                                                -Sirius  _

            Harry tried to remember everything that he saw: the snake transforming into Voldemort, the strange ropes that grabbed a hold of him. This wasn't the first time he had had this nightmare, and this wasn't even the worst one. He had had one that summer where he saw Cedric being killed, then his parents, then Sirius, Ron, Ginny, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, everyone that he cared about…and then Voldemort turned his wand on Cho Chang, and hissed, "Now for your girlfriend." 

            Cho didn't scream, but he watched in horror as Voldemort raised his hands and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" 

            Cho slumped slowly to the ground, and Harry tried to wrench himself away from the Death Eaters that were holding him.  He could see their faces, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco Malfoy (who was laughing at Harry). Then Voldemort turned the wand on him, Harry, and raised it, ready to fire the killing stroke; when Harry always woke up, at the last second just before the Killing curse was preformed. 

            Harry wiped his forehead, cold sweat was on the palm of his hand, and he still felt shaky. The laugh of Voldemort was still ringing in his ears, but what was really bothering him was the last part of it. Who was the woman who had stopped the dream? Everything had felt so real up until that moment, and then…

            "More then you'll ever know," that's what the woman in the Death Eaters robes had said…but what did she mean by that, and why did she seem to think that seeing her would be a shock to him? It all made no sense…and that was Harry's last thought before drifting back off to sleep. 

*                      *                      *

            Dawn light was growing slowly in the Forbidden Forest, and, in a little glen, a Ford Anglina was sitting peacefully. The soft sun shining down though the thick branches, cool breezes, whispering summers end, slowly wafted through the area. A unicorn and her young ate the dewy grass, and all seemed well in the world. 

            BANG! The car door flew open, and the woman that had been sitting in the tree the night before crawled out, ever graceful as she untwisted her, poor, contorted body from inside the car. She yawned and stretched, then blinked her eyes, "It's too damn early for this." 

            The unicorns, which were easily spooked, had taken off just seconds before, and the woman could see their fleeting figures in the early light. 

            "Sorry," she said to no one, and then cricked her neck, "didn't mean to scare you…" the unicorns were long gone, "Aw, confound it!" 

            She tossed off her shawl, and fixed her robes; dirt and dust covered the normally soft, shiny outfit, and the woman frowned upon it. "I knew I should have brought along a few others." 

            A rumble from her stomach made her flinch, and she rolled her eyes. "Must be breakfast." A sudden caw from over head made her look skyward as a large, black raven flew down and landed on the branch above her. "And where have you been, Mister? I thought I told you not to stray to far. Don't tell me that you were up at Hogwarts…" 

            The bird dropped something and then cawed. Bending down the woman picked it up; it was a clipping from the _Daily Profit (the wizarding newspaper). It had to be less then a week old, not quite yellowed yet, and the piece was ripped awkwardly, as if someone had seen it, and, in anger, torn it right out of the paper:_

**Ministry Plagued with Mishaps**

London –Rumors are circulating that the death of Cedric Diggory was non-accidental. The son of Amos Diggory, Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was one of four competitors in last years Tri-wizard Tournament. Among those that were selected as champions were: Fleur Delacor –of Beauxbatons Academy; Victor Krum –Durmstrang Institution, and seeker for the Bulgarian Quidditch team (who had a stunning snitch catch last year at the World Cup), and Harry Potter –who most know as the boy who defeated You-know-who. 

            The officials at the Ministry had no comment to the rumors, which they call, "Hogs-wallow and gossip." There is no proof of any such attack on Hogwarts grounds. 

            "The boy had a terrible accident, and for that we are sorry, but there is no proof of murder!" says Percy Weasley, who has been asked to act as temporary Head of the Department of International Magical Corporation in light of an illness suffered by Bartemius Crouch. "Now if you'll excuse me I have many important matters to attend to." 

            A number of sources claim that Delacor was injured by Victor Krum on orders from his Headmaster Igor Karkaroff. (Karkaroff, last seen on Hogwarts grounds, is now missing, and has yet to be located by the authorities.) Krum is then to have attacked and killed Diggory while wounding Potter. 

            "He looked dazed, as if someone had put him under a curse or something," claimed one medical expert who was at the last task of the championship. "I knew something was funny about that Krum. You can't trust anyone; not now-a-days." 

            While theories as to why Krum attack Diggory run the gamut, most agree it was not Diggory who Krum was aiming for. Rather it was young Mr. Potter, who, as reported by corresponded Rita Skeeter, was the target of young Mr. Krum's attack. Krum, Potter, and a charming Muggle born girl known as Hermione Granger (who, like Potter, is entering her fifth year at Hogwarts School for Witches and Wizards) were reported to be in a love triangle of sorts; this has since been denied by Krum's family, and supporters.  

            "It is not at all true," Claims Anton Stragovitch, the head of Quidditch lessons at Durmstrang. "Viktor could not have attacked the other competitors; [Krum] is far too good a young man, to resort to such despicable tactics." 

            At that Mr. Stragovitch then shooed away reporters with blasts from his wand. For now, it appears that there is inconsistency with this story and the rumors that You-know-who has returned. So claims a second year Ravenclaw of Hogwarts who whished not to be identified, "Professor Dumbledore told us that Cedric was killed by You-know-who. He said that Harry Potter risked his life to get Cedric back." 

            Truth, fiction, or just the made up tale of a Headmaster whishing to keep the reputation of his school up; Minster Fudge did us the honor of giving us a comment on the situation, "I've known Dumbledore for sometime, and have spoken to him on the matter of how the school shall be run. We [at the Ministry] will see to it that the students have nothing to worry about. Safe guards have been set up, and we are looking into this matter." 

            Danny Jacobs, head of MLES (Magical Law Enforcement Squad), had this to say, "If there is a guilty party in this matter we will find them, and deal with them properly. No I can't say exactly what we are doing, but, I assure that you that I personally am looking into this matter." 

            Initial reports conclude that Diggory was killed by the Killing curse, one of the unforgivable curses that sent several wizards to Azkaban after the fall of You –Know –Who. Only two years ago the murder Sirius Black became the only man, ever, to escape Azkaban. Some are speculating that Black may have been behind the attack along with Karkaroff, a known Death Eater who was pardoned after testifying against Augustus Rookwood (who was part of the Department of Mysteries.) Karkaroff became head of Durmstrang three years after his pardon and has since been revered by most as a stand up Headmaster. 

            The women eyed the paper, and watched the images of Fudge and Jacobs try and look their most serious. Danny Jacobs was a tall, lean, man with chestnut colored hair, which was graying at the temples (the woman knew this because she had seen Jacobs several times), wearing a derby, a thick mustache, and a pair of charcoal gray eyes. He was standing next to the shorter Minster Fudge, and seemed to be eyeing everything about him with an air of suspicion. 

            The woman pocketed the clipping as the bird swooped down towards her. "Where did you get this clipping, Mordred? Show me." 

            She gently patted his head, pulled out her wand and touched his forehead with it. There was a rush of light, and then she saw a room, like a sort of cheap hotel, with a person lying in bed. Near by a fire was burning out, and a serpent with three heads was curled, like a dog, on the rug near the hearth. She was looking though a window, then the window opened ("Pushed by you no doubt, good boy.") and she could see inside more distinctly. The person in the bed was a girl of twenty-two at least, her face was shadowed as the covers were pulled up around her, but she could be no older then that. The woman felt a soaring sensation, then saw the clipping on a desk, and out the window she went. 

            Gently she removed her wand from the bird's head, and kissed it. "Good boy, Mordred, good boy." –She gave him a treat, then he hopped up on her shoulder as she pulled her hair into a braid –"Well, looks like a good time to have breakfast. I'm going to have to think about this for a while…and then let's go down and visit the school, I know there will be some students that will want to meet me, don't you think." 

            Mordred cawed again and flew off a head of her, as the woman got into the car and started driving it down towards the village of Hogesmeade, the thought of warm pumpkin pancakes on her mind. 

*                      *                      *

            The picturesque town of Hogsmeade sat just outside the boarder of the school, and just south of the Forbidden Forest. A quite little shire with shops of every kind, quaint cottages, and lovely floral arrangements that lined the streets and sidewalks; on the border was the beginnings of the mountains that set off into the darker reaches of the lands. Here the woman parked the car, and looked around carefully. Then she pulled out a small vile, filled with a gray-green liquid, from the pocket of her robe, took a deep swig, and sputtered. While not as bad as a polyjuice potion, the contents in the vile still made the woman gag. The potion had an instant effect, her skin pigment grew a darker olive shade, and her eyes dulled in color, but did not change from their blue. She smiled at herself, then pulled out another vile, this one with a clear liquid but with a slight bluish tinge to it. Once more she drank down the concoction, only this time she bent double over and began to breathe heavily. Pain wracked down her back and through her bones, and her head tingled. When she finally felt well enough to look up at the rearview mirror, she could see that her black hair was gone, and in place was oaken brown mane, with blond streaks running hither and yon all over. She quickly pulled it back into a loose twist, and then felt her stomach lurch, and became sick in the car. 

            That was the last straw for the Angelina, for with a great heave, it tipped her out from inside, and blasted her trunk and case from its trunk. Then with a snort from its exhaust the car took off back into the woods. The woman stood up, and Mordred cawed after it with some anger. She shook her head, and quickly fixed her cloak, then made her way down to the village.

            "Hasn't changed a bit," she murmured as she pasted the numerous shops, including Zonko's Joke shop, and headed straight for the Three Broomsticks, the best pub in the whole of Hogesmeade. Mordred landed on the windowsill and the woman patted him on the head. "Go on, off with you now. They may remember you as well…head up to the Owlery, I'm sure they have some left over food there." 

            Mordred cawed and took to the sky again, and then the woman took a deep breath and went into the pub. The bright sunlight streamed in though the window, and people were ordering the morning specials from the waiters that came over. The woman took a seat near the bar, the best place if you want to listen and not be seen as she had learned, and looked over the menu. 

            " –Coulda' sworn she was hexed," said a lean wizard sitting by the bar talking to Madame Rosemerta the owner of the Three Broomsticks. "All pale like…never seen anything like it…" 

            "But Donna is all right isn't she, Hank?" said the small, freckled faced witch who sat next to Hank. "I mean…she's not…you know…dead…is she?"

            "Naw, just stunned," replied Hank, and the woman quickly covered her face. "Said something was up in the tree and it attacked her."

            "Dose she know what it was that attacked her?" asked Rosmerta, the lovely owner of the Three Broomsticks handed him a tankard, and Hank took a long deep swig. "Surely she had to have seen something Hank; Donna wouldn't go making things up like that…would she?

            "Not at all, said it was too dark," then he lowered his voice and came closer, "But she did mention a pair of really weird looking eyes."

            The freckled faced witch went pale, and uttered a small cry. "You…you don't think it was one of them…Vampires? Do you Hank?"

            Hank shook his head, and the woman scowled deeply. "No, this wasn't a Vampire, woulda drunk from her if it was." –He lowered his voice, as if trying to conceal the information, but there were only a handful of people in the pub –"But I think it was one of them, Death Eaters. You know there's been a whole lota' rumors about You –Know –Who, goin' round since that poor, Diggory boy was killed last year. Some think he's come back, and it's going to get worse." 

            At this the freckled witch let out a gasp, and dropped her cup of milk. Rosmerta banished the spill away with her wand, and then caught a glimpse of the woman who was sitting at the table, and smiled, "Good Morning, Miss. Is there anything you want?" 

            The woman gave a smile, "Ah…how are your pumpkin pancakes?" 

            "None, better," Hank said suddenly. "If there's a better maker of pumpkin pancakes then Madame Rosmerta, I'll eat my hat, I will." 

            "Now, Hank, flattery won't get you out of paying for your breakfast you know," Rosmerta laughed, then turned to the woman. "Anything you want with that dear?" 

            "Cup of hot chocolate will be nice, and some butterscotch syrup." The woman replied, and gave a quick glance at her watch. The students would be up and heading for the Great Hall by now, and she wondered if she was at all ready to face them. After all, this was the first time she had set foot on Hogwarts grounds, and thing certainly had to have change in the past thirteen years. Rosmerta returned with the woman's pancakes, and she thanked her, "By the way, if you'll pardon the inquiry Madame Rosmerta, but what's this talk about Vampires, and Death Eaters?" 

            "Oh, terrible business that," Rosmerta told her. "Hank's the young girl's cousin. He found her this morning, stunned, right in her own back yard. There have been whispers of stuff going on in the forest, rumors and gossip mainly. Hagrid, Hogwarts gamekeeper, was just in here two days ago saying that a group of Vampires have taken residence in the forest…but then there's talk of Death Eaters back on the march. Tabitha was in London just last week, and some strange things have been going on in Knockturn Alley." 

            "Really," the woman said with amazement, and turned to the freckled faced witch. "What sorts of things?" 

            Tabitha flushed slightly, "Well, it's not that big a deal, my dear. It's –well –you see when I went down to Diagon Alley, my cousin Hera owns a Puff'em's Pastry Shoppe you see, and while I was visiting her this group of children came in, not much older then fifteen I'd say, three of them. Well they sat down and were talking about how the boy with the black hair had been trying to follow this woman down Knockturn –and I turned and I said to the boy- I said, 'Silly thing for you to do. There's dangerous sorts down there, don't you know that.' And his red headed friend says to me, 'But the woman went down there. We weren't trying to get into trouble.' Well I just huffed at this and left. Kids don't know how to behave now days. ("Oh quite," the woman said.)

            "Well I went down the way, and you won't believe what I saw. There right in front of the entrance to Knockturn Alley was the strangest thing. A group of warlocks all converged around this one girl, and she was holding something in her hand. Well I got closer to see what it was, and that's when one of them whirled around on me and aimed a jinx at me. Well I wasn't about to stay around to see what was happening after that, I went straight for the Leaky Caldron, and took some Floo powder out of there. I tell you Knockturn Alley's been buzzing since that poor boy died last June. I just hope that the rumors aren't true." 

            "And these rumors would be…" the woman hastily ate her pancakes. 

            Tabitha looked scandalized, as if someone hadn't heard the stories, "You mean you haven't heard the news that, You –Know –Who made an attack on Harry Potter, and that You –Know –Who's alive?" 

            The woman smiled at Tabitha, saying sweetly, "Well if you say so. How could I doubt your word, Ms Tabitha?" Then went right on eating, all the while thinking about what the witch and Rosmerta had said, and a sour feeling settled in the bottom of her insides. 


	3. Chapter 2: A Midsummers Nightmare

Chapter 2: A Midsummers Nightmare

Bright summer light streamed in from the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall as Harry and Ron sat down for breakfast. All that morning the Gryffindors had been casting quick glances at Harry, and he figured that by late afternoon everyone in the school was going to have heard of the nightmare that he had had. Hermione, who was already nose deep in reading _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, looked up when Harry sat down. At once Harry knew that Hermione had heard of his nightmare because a worried look was on her face. _

            "It was nothing," he told her at once, and she nodded weakly. 

            "If you say so Harry, but I still think you should go and see Dumbledore about it," she was saying. 

            "But my scar didn't hurt," Harry told her, and it hadn't, so what was the use of going to see Dumbledore if the dream hadn't affected his scar. He certainly didn't want everyone worrying about him, and over a silly dream that had been just that. "And besides, Dumbledore has _enough to worry about." _

            Hermione shrugged, and began eating her porridge and reading once more, but her eyes kept flicking over to Harry as if he was a time bomb waiting to go off. It was bad enough having these nightmares, but now he had his friends worried again, as they had been all summer, and Harry hated that. From the time he had gotten home by the Dursleys things started going wrong. At first it had been an uneasy feeling that had given Harry chills, and every night he woke up to the feeling of eyes on him, watching him. He would wake up with a start, and look out the window, once in a while to see a shadow vanish from sight, but he had thought it was all part of the dream, and had gone back to sleep. Then the nightmares had started, and night after night he would wake up in a cold sweat. And every time he woke up he was sure that there was a shadow outside his window. Harry knew that as long as he was in his Aunt and Uncle house he was safe. But, he wondered, staring out on the deserted Privet Drive, even if Voldemort couldn't find him, could one of his followers? 

            It was during one of those nights that he woke up feeling dread wash all over his body that he heard the swish of a cloak just outside his door, and when he opened it up he saw a shadow dodging down the stairs. He dashed after it as fast as he could, from his bedroom upstairs, and caught it slipping into the kitchen. Harry opened the door, and peered in, the door made a slight creek and he winced wondering if the person had heard him. In the dim light from the lamps on Privet Drive that cascaded in through the windows, Harry saw the image of the shadow, turn and look at him with an intense pair of blue eyes, then, with what seemed to be a smile, it dart out an open window; slamming it shut loudly with a _BOOM! _ This causing Uncle Vernon to make a loud snort, and call, "Who's there…?" A moment later Uncle Vernon had fallen back to sleep, and Harry looked out over the back yard, only to see it deserted. Catching his breath he went back upstairs before he was caught down in the kitchen and accused of stealing food. He was sure that someone had broken into the house, and by morning he knew it was certain, because when Harry came down for breakfast Aunt Petunia was howling on about muddy footprints staining her spotless floor. 

            From that time on however whenever Harry went out he got the distinct feeling that he was being followed, and every now and then he would spot a big black raven fly across the sky. The Dursleys had only made things worse. Apparently Dudley had failed in his diet and the school nurse at Smeltings was ordering him to see a nutritionist, who then told Dudley that he would have to go to a 'Special Spa' where his 'problem' could be fixed. The 'Spa' turned out to be in Switzerland, and the Dursleys had no intention of taking Harry with them. Harry had asked if he could go stay with the Weasleys –Ron's family –and, not to his surprise, Uncle Vernon gave him the utmost look of loathing. 

            The Dursleys hated magic –even the M word would cause a panic in them –and the fact that Harry was a wizard made them hate him even more then they already did. The year before the Weasleys had crashed though the fireplace when they had come to pick Harry up for the Quidditch World cup. In doing so they had made a mess of Aunt Petunia's front room, and caused much havoc without (or in the case of the twins, Fred and Gorge, with) meaning to. Since then even the mention of the Weasleys had caused Uncle Vernon to fly into a fit. 

            "You will be staying here with Mrs. Figg," Uncle Vernon had told Harry when he, Aunt Petuinia, and Dudley had gotten back from the nutritionist. Dudley sniggered behind Uncle Vernon; Dudley's favorite past time was watching Vernon make Harry miserable. "We will be leaving in one week, and I do not want to hear from her about you causing any problems. If there are…you will not be returning to that School of yours! Mark my word!" 

            Harry narrowed his eyes, gone were the days that he let the Dursleys treat him like so much trash, and then he smiled. "Okay then. I guess I'll be writing my godfather –you know the one that's a convicted murder…" 

            Vernon Dursleys face went pale, but he still held his ground. "You are going by Mrs. Figg's, weather you like it or not, and there is nothing you can do to fight it." 

            In the end Harry had caved in, packed up, and by the third week of summer was moving into Mrs. Figg's house. Harry didn't exactly like Mrs. Figg, although he didn't dislike her either; before he had gotten his letter to Hogwarts, his Aunt and Uncle would always shuttle him over at her house and leave him there while they treated Dudley and his friends to treats for his birthday. Mrs. Figg was an old woman who was quite strange, but was kind to Harry, and came off rather odd indeed. She always had a chocolate cake that was a week old, or even older, and Harry had to be careful of avoiding stepping on her many cats' tails, a feat that he was never quite able to do, since the cats were all over the place. She'd have Harry help her around the house, gardening, fixing things, or hang up antiques that she got from friends. And the worst thing was that the place smelled of the cats, and cabbage, a smell Harry recalled when he had a tour of boys tent that Mr. Weasley had gotten from his partner Perkins. Then there was the fact that all her furniture was mismatched, and had several knitted covers, and she had no television what –so –ever. So Harry had to find other things to occupy his time, which use to be playing cards or other games with Mrs. Figg. 

 When he arrived, Mrs. Figg was waiting outside, watching as Mr. Dursley pulled up in his company car and Harry got out, hauling his trunk with his school supplies, Hegwig's cage, and a suitcase packed with normal Muggle clothing. Uncle Vernon hissed at him another warning of behaving as Mrs. Figg came over and gave Vernon a cold look. 

            "Vernon," she said while two enormous tabbies sat besides her on the driveway, "I want a word with you before you leave Harry here." 

            "About what," Uncle Vernon had asked an indignant look upon his face.

            Mrs. Figg held out the remains of a plant that Harry at once recognized; he'd seen it just last year at Hogwarts, a young bubotuber sapling. The plant had been crush and run over. "This was a very important plant of mine Mr. Dursley. Your son, Dudley" she sniffed as she said it as if she'd just said a very nasty curse word, "and two of his…friends…knocked this off my porch, and then ran it over with his bike. I _will be expecting payment for the damages Vernon." _

            Uncle Vernon glared at her, "For a ruddy plant, I think not. How do you know it was my son?! You have no proof…" 

            "My cats say they saw him, and that's good enough for me," Mrs. Figg cut him off. "I will be expecting payment as soon as you return from your trip, if not sooner." 

            "Very well," said Uncle Vernon tersely, and Harry saw him mouth 'Her cats…' with a suspicious look that he got when he thought Harry was doing any magic. Then he looked to Harry and said, "I'm warning you boy, if I hear that you showed off any of your abnormality over here…or if you try to contact any of those weirdo's you call friend to come get you…"

            "I know, I know," Harry said back, his brow narrowed, and said in a sarcastic tone, "I won't ask Ron to come and get me."  

            "Abnormality," Mrs. Figg wrinkled her nose. "Weirdoes…? Utter nonsense Vernon, the boy has no abnormality…unless that's what you've been telling him it is." She looked at Harry, for the first time, with a concerned look, "Have they been telling you that, Harry? Didn't your Aunt and Uncle tell you why you have to stay here? I'm sure Albus mentioned it in the letter. They did tell you after you came back from school last year didn't they?" 

              "Ah…" was all Harry was able to get out, when Mrs. Figg turned on Uncle Vernon with a look of anger. Her wrinkled face twisted into a look that Harry was sure would have made even Mr. Filch nervous.  

            "You didn't tell him? You mean to tell me that he doesn't realize why he must stay here?! Do you think the boy doesn't have enough thought in his head to comprehend?" Her two large cats had leapt up on Vernon's car's hood and were hissing at him. "You will tell him right now, Vernon." 

            "Tell me what?" Harry had asked, looking extremely perplexed. Uncle Vernon was looking at the cats as they were hissing, and Mrs. Figg, with terror in his beady eyes. He tried to back up the car, but it wouldn't start, and Mrs. Figg said once more, "You _will tell him now Vernon." _

            Mr. Dursley shot Mrs. Figg a very nasty look, then turned to Harry and said bluntly. "She's your Secret Keeper, what ever that means. More of the freakishness that surrounds you boy," he looked to Mrs. Figg, "there I told him." 

            Mrs. Figg nodded to her two cats who jumped off, and just like that the car jumped into reverse and shot down the driveway, smashing it's backend into the fire –hydrant and knocking it over. Water gushed out as Uncle Vernon let out a loud scream, and several of the neighbors came out to see what was happening. Vernon Dursley managed to get the car back into the right gear, and set off down the street with the bumper hanging off, sending sparks up as it scrapped the street.  Harry blinked, and stared at the sight. He'd never seen anything like it; it was like the python he'd sic on Dudley at the zoo all over again, only far better. Mrs. Figg beckoned her cats, and hitched up the shawl she had over her shoulders and said, "Come along Harry. Inside now, hurry, can't have you catching a chill." 

            Harry had followed and once inside and Mrs. Figg said, "Been waiting fourteen long years to do something like that to that brutish Muggle." Then she started laughing, a kind sort of laugh, and one that was quite infectious as well. Harry had never heard Mrs. Figg laugh, and he joined in too. After she got him some lemonade, and some cookies, Mrs. Figg had explained, as best she could that Dumbledore had asked her to act as Harry's Secret Keeper, and protect him till the time was right to reveal herself. And now, that Harry was at Hogwarts and understood what had happened to his parents, she could safely tell him that she was a witch. It took Harry several minutes to collect himself after she had finished explaining the situation. To Harry it made perfect sense that she was a witch, she owned so many cats, and her odd plants, and the fact that she didn't own a telephone, or a television…why hadn't he seen it before. 

            The next several weeks with Mrs. Figg flew by. She let Harry send out Hegwig, and he helped her with her potions and other things around the house. For once Harry felt the same happy feeling he had when he was at Hogwarts. Mrs. Figg, for all her strange ways, was really a very nice lady, and Harry was glad he was with her and not with his Aunt and Uncle. A week before his birthday he got a letter from Ron. Pig, Ron's small owl, flew in one morning to Harry's room, and startled him awake. 

            "Get down here you," Harry said grabbing hold of the minute owl who hooted happily when caught and nipped Harry's finger. Harry took off the letter and let Pig get some food from Hedwig's food dish. She still gave the small owl a look of disapproval, but she had grown use to him and joined him in eating. It was Oliver; Mrs. Figg's old gray Persian, who'd taken to sleeping on Harry's bed at night, that wasn't thrilled to see Pig. He tried to cover his ears to block the high pitched hooting from Pig, but in the end gave up, and pulled his baggy, elderly body off the bed, and trotted out of the room with a shake of his head. Harry laughed, and read the letter. 

            _Dear Harry, _

_            Got your letter, so this Mrs. Figg is a witch, Mum says she's heard of her, but doesn't know who she is. Dad's been twice as busy with raids; it's been really bad. There are tons of rumors flying around that a number of Muggles have been attacked, and that people have been seeing a flurry of strange things happening. Dad thinks it's the Death Eaters going on a binge. We went to Cedric's funeral early this month, almost all of Hufflepuff was there, and guess who else was there. Malfoy and his family actually had the nerve to show up! He and his parents came with Fudge and his wife. Cho was there too; she was sitting with Mrs. Diggory. I guess she was trying to console Cedric's mum, but from the looks of it Mrs. Diggory was doing more of the consoling.  I saw Hermione there as well with her folks, she was wondering if you were feeling okay. You haven't been having any more nightmares have you? _

_ Mum just got word from Dumbledore that you can come and stay with us. That is if Mrs. Figg says it's okay. Lots of things have been happening over here. Bagman's been officially sacked, looks like his debts have run really high, and some one spotted him in America. I guess he's hoping to avoid the goblins, but Bill says that he hasn't got a chance, those goblins will find him in no time. So far there haven't been any bad reports on the Ministry from Skeeter, may be Hermione's jar changed her, ("That'd be a surprise," Harry thought) __but I doubt it. There's not been enough dirt out yet. Fred and Gorge started inventing as soon as we got home. Mum insisted that they put it in the bank, but they're more determined then ever. Been trying out new stuff almost every other day! Ginny's been getting mail from someone, but she won't tell us. Mum thinks she's got an admirer. _

 

_            Mum just sent a letter out to Mrs. Figg, we'll be coming to pick you up by three o'clock. Oh and just to warn you, Percy's been given a promotion by Fudge, temporary till they get someone to take over the International Magical Cooperation Department, but the way he's been going on about it. Worse then when he got his Head Boy letter. _

_                                                                                    See you soon_

_                                                                                                Ron_

            Harry finished the letter, and smelled sizzling sausage, and hurried down stairs to see Mrs. Figg feeding Errol, the Weasley's old Owl. He looked like an ancient feather duster, and was gulping down water as if he had never had a drop to drink in his life. Mrs. Figg saw him and held up the letter. "Better get packed if there going to be here by three then," she insisted, and Harry noticed that there was a group of letters along with the letter from Mrs. Weasley. Owl post was the normal way for wizards to send mail, and Mrs. Figg obviously had gotten quiet a few letters. She smiled at Harry as he sat down as sat down to eat.  

            At three o'clock that afternoon the Mr. Weasley, Ron, Fred and Gorge, arrived to pick him up, using floo powder to arrive, and Mrs. Figg sent him on his way with a wink, saying that she'd see him soon enough. Harry spent his birthday with Ron and his family, and Mrs. Weasley insisted upon having a party for Harry, and Harry met the rest of the   
Weasley clan, including Mrs. Weasley's account cousin. On his birthday Harry received, along with a number of birthday greetings and gifts from his friends. Hermione sent him a fine looking quill set, and Hagrid had sent him a package of the best fudge he had ever tasted. And from Hogwarts, he got his normal letter from Professor McGonagall reminding him to be at platform nine and three quarters at eleven o'clock on September 1st. 

            It was a wonderful summer, and yet even with all the Qidditch  that he and Ron, Fred and Gorge played, and all the wonderful treats he had at the Weasleys, Harry couldn't shake the foreboding he had every time he went outside, or to sleep. Twice he'd seen the black bird that he'd seen at Privet Drive, and the one time he went down to the village with Ron and Ginny to find a run away chicken, Harry swore that he saw a woman watching him from inside a store. Harry didn't tell this to Mrs. Weasley because he knew she would get terribly upset, he didn't even mention it to Ron. 

            Two weeks before the start of the school term the Weasleys and Harry went to Diagon Alley to pick up supplies for school. Here Harry and Ron had run into Hermione who was with her parents. Harry noticed that she had a perfect badge pinned to her cloak, but wasn't showing it off as Percy had last year. She said nothing about Krum, but Harry could tell Ron was wondering what she'd said to him the day they left Hogwarts. Hermione, on the other hand, was more anxious to ask Harry about his dreams, a subject Harry had avoided till then. Harry told Hermione what he had told Ron that they were just bad dreams, and that was it. It wasn't until they got into Flourishes and Blotts that Harry felt the uneasy feeling that had plagued him all summer. He looked around and had spotted a woman in a midnight blue velvet cloak, pretending to be reading a book, watching him. As soon as she saw that he noticed her, she turned and headed for the door. 

            As she left, Harry saw that a black bird, one that looked very much like the bird that he had seen flying around watching him by Privet Drive and the Burrow, landed on her shoulder. Harry put his book down, and started for the door, Ron and Hermione calling to him. He ignored this, and found himself winding his way through Diagon Alley, and saw the woman pick up her pace, realizing that she was being followed. Harry quickened his step, and dodged past different wizards and witches as they bought their goods. It wasn't till Harry was at the edge of Knockturn Alley that Ron and Hermione caught up with him. 

            "Harry, what is it?" Ron asked, catching his breath. "What's the matter?" 

            "There was a woman who was watching me, who's been watching me. And I want to find out why." Harry told him. "She just went down there." 

            "Harry, w-we can't go down there," Hermione told him, and was pulling him back. "That's Knockturn Alley. You remember what happened down there the last time…" 

            "I know, but…" Harry tried to find the right words. "She knows something; I can feel it, Hermione. I've got to find out why she's been following me."

            Reluctantly Hermione nodded, and she, Ron, and Harry, started down the dark Alley. Harry had forgotten how dire it was down in Knockturn Alley, the grim and shadows seem to have doubled since he'd last found himself, by accident, down the narrow street. The trio kept close to one another as they made there way further down the twisted corridors. Hags and vile looking warlocks watched them with cold, dark eyes, and it seemed to Harry that these people were almost happy to see them come down this way. A hag, halfway down, had grabbed Hermione and commented that her hair would make an excellent pillow stuffing. Ron was turning pale at the sight of the many spiders that crawled along the ground, windows, and walls of Knockturn. 

            Harry had been trying to find the woman, but was having no luck in the dark alley and, at Hermione's suggestion, agreed that they should be getting back. She had just vanished, and seeing as her cloak had been so dark a color Harry was sure that she had ducked into a shadow earlier and went back. However, when Harry turned around he discovered that he didn't know the way out. 

            "Let's go this way," Ron suggested, seeing a gaggle of disfigured goblins whispering at the trio. Harry nodded and they set off to the left, but soon were blocked by a group of strange hags that were grinning at them, and they backed up rather quickly, because Hermione bumped into a barrel of wiggling, ugly, slugs, splashing it all over the ground. The owner of the shop wasn't too pleased, and Ron shouted to run. And run they did, as fast as they could, as the owner was shouting, "Stop those thieves!" 

            Instantly several warlocks blocked another way out, and Harry pulled his friends down another entrance, and down several steps into a dimly lit street, and away from the warlocks. They were running blind, turning in circles, and trying to retrace their steps. Panicked, they whirled about the alley and found that pounding footsteps followed them. It was a nightmare, and none of them could wake up. Ron was muttering something about not wanting to die, and Hermione looked extremely pale as he bushy hair flew behind her. 

            They turned another corner and someone grabbed Harry's shoulders. A sharp cold voice that Harry recognized at once said, "In here, and be quick about it." 

            The person had steered them right into a small shop full of curious oddity. Through the dirty window Harry, Ron, and Hermione saw the group of warlocks pass, come back cursing that the trio had disappeared, and saw them head back to the upper portion of Knockturn Alley. They let out a collective sigh of relief, only to hear their rescuer clear his throat. They had turned around slowly, to face none other then their Potions Master, Severus Snape. 

            Severus Snape was a tall man with long black greasy hair, sallow skin, and a hooked nose. His black eyes gazed down at the trio and the look they received was something that was a cross between loathing, and annoyance. Harry knew that Snape saw them all as pests, and greatly disliked Ron and Herminone. But he saved his worst feelings for Harry. 

            Professor Snape hated Harry, and the feeling was more then mutual. Ever since his first year Snape had shown only disgust of Harry and his friends, and Harry suspected that Snape suspected them of stealing from his private stores at the school. It was true that Hermione had taken some Boomslang skin back in their second year to make a polyjuice potion to find out who was setting a monster on the Muggle-born in the school, but Snape had only truly begun to suspect after last year when Barty Crouch jr. had stolen the ingredients to make his own polyjuice potion in order to keep up his disguise as Mad-eye Moody, a famous Auror. It was during this time that Harry had found out about Snape being an ex-Death Eater, and a spy for Headmaster Dumbledore. And just last year Dumbledore had asked Snape to do something, what that was, Harry did not know, but he had wondered thought out the summer. 

            "And, exactly what are you three doing down here?" Snape had asked in his silkiest voice. He folded his arms across his chest, and hovered over them like a giant bat. Snape was watching Harry, eyeing him up, as if he was waiting for Harry to give him some sort of lame excuse. It was Hermione who spoke up first though, and in a very careful way. 

            "Well Professor," she started, "we were actually looking for a relative of mine. She's a Muggle, and got so very excited at seeing Diagon, that she took off to explore, and we lost her. And one of the shopkeepers said that he thought he saw her come down this way. So we came down here to look, and got lost. She probably slipped into one of the other stores back in Diagon, and we just didn't see her." 

            "So," Snape said with a sneer, "you let a Muggle wander around Diagon Alley, by themselves, without supervision, and you haven't the faintest idea where they are? Really Miss Granger, if I could I would take a hundred points from you for this, but as it's summer I can't." He gave her a sharp cold look. "Do you realize the sort of damage that could occur if this, relative of yours, were to buy an item here and use it outside in their home? Your house would be visited by the Accidental Magic Reversal squad, and I don't think that your parents would like to try and explain that situation to your…_relative_…Miss Granger."

            Hermione cast a look to Harry that was almost pleading, but lowered her head as if she were ashamed. Snape's eyes rounded on Harry and Ron, who instantly looked down as he spoke, "I will be speaking to the Headmaster about this, perhaps a months worth of detention ought to calm this curious nature of yours. But for now, follow me, and keep close. There are those who would just love to get a hold of a young wizard or witch and use them for…shall we say… malicious purposes." 

            With that Snape led them though a back door and up a set of stone steps. There he peered around the archway, and then beckoned them to follow. Up several passageways, and behind a number of shops, the small procession went, not talking to each other. After what seemed like hours, Snape pointed out the main Alley and the entrance to Diagon. Then he slipped back the way they came, and Harry, Ron and Hermione headed straight for the sunlit world of Diagon Alley. 

            Once back on familure ground the trio went to rest, but not wanting to deal with anyone (Ron had ushered them away from a rushing Gorge, Fred, and the twins best friend Lee Jordan, who were waving them to come over and see something that they bought) they went inside a pastry shop that was near the entrance of Knockturn. Inside was only a hand full of wizards and witches, most past their prime. On a stool by the counter a small freckled face witch sat talking to the owner, and laughing with her. Harry and Hermione sat down at a table, and Ron went to get something to eat. 

            "Harry, be honest, what's going on?" Hermione asked after sitting a while in silence. Her face was still pale from fright, but there was a determined glint in her eye, one that Harry had seen on many occasions when Hermione was set on something. Ron had brought back some small cakes, and sat down.

            "Yeah, what's the matter with you? I've seen you toss and turn at night. You're having more nightmares, aren't you?" 

            Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione, and saw nearly identical expressions of worry in their faces. They didn't care that they had just gone down the most dangerous Alley in all of Wizard London. Nor did they eat any of the food that Ron had just brought over. Harry smiled, he was glad to have friends that really cared about him, and then with a deep breath he related the problems that he was having. The break in at his Aunt and Uncles house, the black bird, the woman in St. Catchpole ("You mean to tell me you saw someone watching us and didn't think to tell any of us? She could have followed us home, Harry." Ron hissed. "I know, I know," Harry replied, "I should have, but I didn't want you to worry."), and the fact that he saw her just now in the bookstore, with the bird on her arm. After he'd finished Harry looked to Ron and Hermione, waiting to see what they had to say. At once Hermione insisted up Harry writing to Dumbledore, but Ron said he didn't see a reason, or at least not one yet. And Harry agreed that he should write to Sirius. It was then that the little freckled witch had jumped down and told them off for going into Knockturn, and had left in a huff when Ron dismissed her very quickly. 

            For the rest of the day Harry tried to find the woman, but he knew it was no use; she was gone. The day before the start of term Harry, Ron, the twins and Ginny, were packed and ready to leave the Burrow. Mr. Weasley would not be coming with them the next day, as he had to supervise several raids that following morning. Percy was off on a rant on how everyone was worried about nothing, and that Mr. Fudge had every right to insist upon sending in some specialist to keep and eye on Dumbledore. This had lead to a fight with Mrs. Weasley, and Percy stormed up stairs slamming his bedroom door. However Percy was able to secure two large cars for them to travel to the station. ("I will not have my family ride on a Muggle Underground, it's far to risky," he told his mother as she got into the car.) The trip to Kings crossing was quite nice, and Ginny played happily with Pig until they came to the station. 

            As they raced to the barrier, and hurried though, Harry waved hello to Hermione who was running to catch up with them. "Mum had a emergency so she sent me by my self." 

            As normal the scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts express was all ready to go, and soon the group had piled into separate compartments. Gorge and Fred had gone off to look for Lee, and Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny took a compartment in the back. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his box, and he cuddled up besides Ginny. Talk all over was of what new measures the Ministry had set up, and around two Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, had come to visit. 

            "Been all over the news, it has," Seamus told Harry. "Diggory's Da has been offering money for anyone who can give information on Cedric's death." 

            "And the Ministry is sending out two officers from the MLES to stay at Hogwarts," Dean said, looking at Harry with a slight smile. "Seems they think that You –Know –Who didn't cause any of the trouble last year." 

            The two stayed for a while, talking to Ron and Harry about Quidditch and who might be chosen as Captain, and Keeper. When they left Neville Longbottom had come in. He said he was trying to avoid a group of Slytherin seventh years that were causing trouble in the forward compartments. His face was white when he came in, but a slight pink came to his cheeks when he spotted Ginny, who quickly looked away. 

            "Ah can I stay in here with you?" He asked them, and sat down by Harry and Ron. 

"Well, Well, Well, Longbottom." A cold drawling voice said from the doorway. "You better watch out, or you'll get what Diggory got. Hanging around with Mudbloods can make you an easy mark." 

Harry looked up, as Draco Malfoy, and his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, came into the room. Crabbe and Goyle looked to have grown quite a bit, and seemed to gain more mass.

"So tell me Potter," smirked Malfoy, his gray eyes shifting up to the scar on Harry's forehead, "how does it feel to be considered a murder?" 

"I donno, Malfoy," Harry said coolly, "maybe your Dad could answer that question for you." 

Malfoy's pale eyes drew narrow, but his face went a bit paler then normal, making it seem pointier then ever. To Harry's surprise Malfoy said nothing in return, instead he started to make comments about knowing all sorts of things since his father and Fudge were such "_good friends_" claiming that soon Dumbledore would be removed from his job and that Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, would make certain of it. Then he went on to taunt Neville about his parents, saying the most awful of things to him; and then, when Ron, told him to go 'Sod off' Malfoy turned his attack onto Ron. He actually pulled his wand on the tall red headed boy. This was a big mistake however, because to everyone's disbelief in the compartment, Ginny Weasley blasted Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, with a spell that sent them flying straight back out into the hallway, and thee trio slammed into the wall, crumpling into a heap on the floor. Then she marched over, and shut the door, and said plainly, "Well, he was getting on my nerves!" 

            "Ginny? You sure you're alright?" Ron asked with a perplexed look on his face. Ginny blushed, and then said. 

            "I'm fine," and she took her seat next to Neville. Harry was surprised by Ginny, after the way Draco had treated her in her first year at the school, she'd finally gotten back at him. He gave her a smile, and she blushed even harder. It was not a secret that Ginny was still taken with Harry, but she'd changed over the past three years, and the crush that she had had been on the wane. On the other hand Neville Longbottom seemed to suddenly be very busy looking at the passing trees as the train made its way towards the castle, careful to avoid looking Ginny right in the eye. Harry saw that he was smiling.  

            Once they were off the train, and out on the platform, Harry, Ron, and Hermione paused briefly to wave to Hagrid who was calling to the First years to follow him. First years traveled across the lake to the school, while the rest of the students rode in horseless carriages up to the castle. Harry, Ron, and Hermione got into a carriage, and the door shut behind them. Soon the train of carriages was making their way up to Hogwarts castle. Harry was taking advantage of the warm weather, and pulled down a window, to cool the stifling inside. As he watched the town of Hogsmeade pass by, he was startled to see a sudden blue flash emanate not far from the Hogsmeade station. Then like a camera flash, it faded as if it had never been. 

            Shaking his head, thinking, hoping he had just imagined the incident, he looked back to his friends. 

            "Something wrong Harry?" Ron asked when Harry pulled his head back in and looked puzzled. 

            "No, no, it's just…I just saw something flash blue out by the station, that's all." 

            Hermione, with a glance at Ron, looked out as well. Neither saw a flash, and Harry quickly dismissed it. When the carriages stopped in front of Hogwarts the students filed out into the entrance hall, only to suddenly be assaulted by Peeves, the resident poltergeist, who tossed several glass objects at them with the utmost glee. Professor McGonagall shouted at him to stop threatening, as always, to have Dumbledore cast him out. Peeves stuck his tongue out at her, and let go a raspberry, then flew up through the top of the ceiling. Hermione went with several other Prefects into another room, and told Harry and Ron she would see them soon.

            The students then were led into the Great Hall, with it's enchanted ceiling showing a clear sky full of brilliant white stars. Yet as Harry sat down, he noticed at the staff table that there was far more people then usual. An empty chair for Hagrid, who was out leading the first years over the lake, sat beside professor's Flitwick (Charms) and Sprout (Herbology). Professor Sprout looked quite sad, not as sad as she had been last year at the end of year feast, but it was obvious that she was still mourning for Cedric Diggory, he had been in her house. Besides Professor Sprout was Professor Sinistra (Astronomy), and Vector (Arithmancy). On the opposite side Harry saw a woman, wearing a dark blue robe, like that of a police officer, with thick blonde hair sitting besides a man with chestnut hair and a mustache, who was dressed in gray, and had a derby hat hanging over the right side of his chair. 

            In the center of the table sat Professor Dumbledore, who was talking to Professor Snape. The long gray beard that Dumbledore wore looked like it had grown another foot or so, and his blue eyes twinkled as the students took their seats. On Dumbledore's right sat Snape, to his left was an empty chair for Professor McGonagall. Then Harry saw something that made him jump, to Snape's left sat Flur Delacour, the young witch from France who had competed last year in the Tri-wizard Tournament. She had mentioned she wanted to work at Hogwarts to learn better English, but Harry had not seriously thought she would be coming. The other person who had caught Harry off guard was the woman next to Flur. If he hadn't been awake he would have thought he was dreaming, because it was Mrs. Figg who was sitting beside Flur, and talking to her with a smile on her face. If she saw Harry she certainly didn't act like she had. Between Mrs. Figg and the chestnut haired man, was an empty chair. 

            Harry nudged Ron, who had been staring abstractedly at Flur, and told him that the woman she was talking to was Mrs. Figg. She looked very different in her red robes, and Ron mumbled something about, "You think she's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" 

            "You know her," hissed a Third year that was sitting near Harry. "Any chance you can put in a good word for me?" 

            Hermione eventually turned up just in time for the sorting, smiled and sat down next to Ginny. Upon Hagrid arriving with several nervous first years, Professor McGonagall had them sit on a wooden three-legged stool, and called them up by name. They were sorted by the sorting hat, and placed into the four Houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Once this was over Professor Dumbledore invited them to eat, and magically food, from the kitchen below, popped up on the tables. Soon everyone was so busy eating and enjoying himself or herself, that they were startled when Professor Dumbledore made his usual speech. 

              "Another school year has begun," he said looking them over. "Sadly this year once among us is not present at this feast, one who should be. I speak of Cedric Diggory, a boy who was very brave even in the face of unspeakable danger." He looked to the Hufflepuff First years as he spoke, "I hope that each of you shall learn of this young man, and try to live up to your house as he did. A Hufflepuff is loyal and true and not afraid to work, this was what Helga Hufflepuff chose when she selected her students, and Cedric Diggory embodied this while he was at Hogwarts." 

            Everyone raised a flask of Pumpkin juice to toast Cedric, and then Dumbledore continued. "As some of you already know, we two very important visitors who will be with us throughout the year. I am speaking of Mr. Danial Jacobs, and Ms. Lynda Simkins, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, and First Lieutenant of the Homicide division." The tables clapped for the man and woman, but with very little enthusiasm, and Harry noticed that Mrs. Figg was glaring at Officer Simkins. "They are here to conduct an investigation, along with three guards from Azkaban." 

            _Dementors_, Harry thought, as Dumbledore warned not to interfere with the officers, or try and trick the Dememtors. As he did last time Professor Dumbledore added not to use an invisibility cloak against the Dementors, and that Jacobs and Simkins would be using them as watchmen for a private office in the castle on the third floor. 

            "Also we have three new staff members here, whom I would like to welcome." Dumbledore continued with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Firstly, Mrs. Arabella Figg has agreed to take up the position as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Then there is her Assistant, who will be assisting Professor Figg in reviews for Fifth and Seventh year students, as well as teach third and sixth year with Professor Figg. And lastly Ms. Flur Delacour will be student teaching with Professor Flitwick, and working with Professor Figg's assistant in learning how to teach here. I'm sure you will all will give her your attention in class." __

            Several boys pulled up their jaws from the floor, including Fred, and Flur gave Dumbledore a polite smile. From there on in it was the normal speech, no going into the Forbidden Forest. No one under third year allowed into Hogsmeade, and Qidditch sessions would begin at the start of November, and for anyone interested that was not in first year, to speak with their Heads of House, or Madame Hooch, and the fact that Mr. Filch had added seventy-seven more items on his list of items that were banned from the school, including fake wands, canary creams, and exploding pogwallors.

            Hermione shouted for the first years of Gryffindor to follow her and she led the table from the hall. Hermione beamed at Ron and Harry, obviously very pleased at how well she was handling her new responsibility, and lead the group up the stairs to the Fat Lady's portrait. 

            "Password?" she asked, while two first years squealed at the sight of a talking painting.  

            "Jabberwokey," Hermione said, and led them in. Harry and Ron were so sleepy from eating their fill that they, along with Neville, Dean and Seamus had gone up to sleep. That was when the nightmares had started. 

            As all of this ran around his head Harry was surprised when Ron tapped his shoulder saying, "Oy, Harry, look we got Care of Magical Creatures first. Damn, what is this, are they trying to torment us or something?" 

            Harry looked; they had been put with Slytherin again. A sharp call from the table behind them made him turn. 

            "Hey Potter," it was Malfoy, laughing. "Need a nightlight? Scared of the dark, having all those nightmares." 

            The rest of the Slytherins chucked, as Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way out of the Great Hall. Then, as they passed by the Greenhouses, and across the vegetable fields, Harry got the strangest nervous sensation. As if something unique was about to occur, and something that he had no way of stopping. 


End file.
